


Danse Russe

by Ischa



Category: Bandom, Fashion Model RPF, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Desolation Row, Crossdressing, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-05
Updated: 2011-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-26 23:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boy (whose brother is trying to start a revolution) meets girl that turns out to be a boy.</p><p><i>Mikey elbows his way to the bar and Andrej hands him a drink. It looks like whisky and it smells like whisky, so it's safe to assume that it is whisky, but on the other hand: Andrej looks like a girl, smells like a girl and isn't a girl. Maybe he should listen to Gerard, who always tells them to question everything. </i></p><p>Desolation Row AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danse Russe

**Pairing:** Mikey Way/Andrej Pejic  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Summary:** Boy (whose brother is trying to start a revolution) meets girl that turns out to be a boy.  
 _Mikey elbows his way to the bar and Andrej hands him a drink. It looks like whisky and it smells like whisky, so it's safe to assume that it is whisky, but on the other hand: Andrej looks like a girl, smells like a girl and isn't a girl. Maybe he should listen to Gerard, who always tells them to question everything._  
 **Warning(s):** mentions of sex, mentions of violence  
 **Author’s Notes:** Desolation Row AU. For verbyna. Random gift fic, hope you'll like it. Quotes and title by Hurt from the song Danse Russe.  
 **Word Count:** 1.801  
 **Beta:** asm_z  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

 

\---  
~1~  
 _There's a tiny dancer in my bed_

~+~  
Mikey looks at Andrej's pale, pale hair and skin and wonders for a second. He lights a cigarette and doesn't even want to think about what Gee would say if he knew. Well, fuck.  
He exhales and Andrej turns over, blinking: his eyelashes long with last night's mascara clinging to them. Andrej smiles and Mikey takes another drag.  
Well, fuck.

~+~  
“Where the hell have you been while Frank was running from the cops?” Gerard asks.

“I have better things to do than running from the cops, Gee, and besides Frank thinks it's some kind of sport.”

Gerard grins and reaches out. He runs a finger over the hickey Andrej left on Mikey's skin last night. “I see.”  
Mikey covers Gerard's hand with his own. He wants to say something, but he has no idea where to even start.

“It's nothing,” he settles on and Gerard looks at him sharply. Mikey wants to bite his tongue for that one. Seems one part of him wants to give this away, share it at least with Gerard.

“You're not ready yet,” Gerard says, dragging him closer so their foreheads touch.  
Gerard always knew him best.

~+~  
Andrej is waiting for him when he enters D.R. He's looking like every fucking wet dream Mikey ever had. Mikey never had a wet dream about a boy, but that doesn't matter anymore anyway.  
Andrej brushes long pale strands of hair out of his face and smiles. His fingers are long and slender: pale nails, shining like pearls.  
The skirt he's wearing ends just shy above his knees and he still looks like he has nothing on at all. Even if most of the girls are wearing far less than Andrej. Punk girls, here for the trouble – just like Mikey. He has no idea why Andrej comes here. He doesn't look like he belongs, but then maybe he just doesn't pretend he even wants to.  
Mikey elbows his way to the bar and Andrej hands him a drink. It looks like whisky and it smells like whisky, so it's safe to assume that it is whisky, but on the other hand: Andrej looks like a girl, smells like a girl and isn't a girl. Maybe he should listen to Gerard, who always tells them to question everything.  
He downs it and Andrej touches his hand hesitantly. “Dance with me?” he asks. He has to lean really close for Mikey to hear it. His breath smells like something fruity and sharp. Mikey nods.

~+~  
Andrej's lips taste like peaches and are soft and obviously cared for. Mikey's own are chapped and he probably tastes like smoke.

“Take me home?” he asks as they break apart for much needed air.  
Mikey nods. There is just no way in hell or on earth or in any of the million possible universes that he can say no.

 

~2~  
 _Sing for the life of me_

~+~  
Gerard is fucking on tonight. He is screaming like he'll never need his voice again. And if he goes on like this, he'll maybe be voiceless for a few days after. The crowd is into it, but then Mikey's never seen a crowd that wasn't into whatever the hell Gerard's mission is at the moment. Gerard has always a mission.  
Usually it's all about fucking the establishment. In whatever form it pisses him off at any given time.  
Gerard hated Kindergarten. Mikey thinks that says it all. He rests his case.

~+~  
Andrej is waiting for him when he comes home. He's sitting on the steps of the fire-escape. Shivering.

“How long have you been here?” he asks, helping Andrej down, who wears ridiculous heals that let his ankles look small and like they'll break under Mikey's touch.

Andrej shrugs. “A while.”

“I told you I was doing stuff with my brother,” Mikey answers.

“Yeah. I didn't think it would take that long,” Andrej says as he enters the small apartment.

“It always takes that long,” Mikey replies and is glad that Andrej doesn't ask more questions. There is no way he's going to drag Andrej into this. This being Gerard's crusade, not that he blames Gerard. Music isn't only pretty tunes you can dance too. It never was that for Mikey and neither for Gerard. One of these days they're going to arrest Gee.  
“Something to drink?” he asks, watching Andrej sit down and slipping out of his shoes. His feet are bare and look too soft and pale on the dirty hardwood floor. He curls up on the couch and looks at Mikey for a second.

“Tea?”

“Sure,” Mikey answers, searching in the drawers. He knows there must be some somewhere. He boils water while he keeps looking for a tea-bag. At least he'll find one, surely? Well, fuck.

“It's not the end of the world if you don't have tea.”

“I do have tea,” Mikey answers, because he knows he has tea and he wants to warm Andrej up and he feels guilty for not telling him who he is and what he does, because Andrej let him know he was a boy the first time they met and Mikey so clearly wanted to take Andrej home.

“Mikey,” Andrej says. Mikey doesn't turn; he can hear Andrej's feet on the hardwood floor and then the linoleum. Andrej touches his hand and Mikey turns to look at him.

“You're freezing.”

“Warm me up?” he asks.  
Mikey nods.

~+~  
“Mikes?” Gerard asks.

Mikey looks up from his guitar and the angry riff he was playing on it and at his brother. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

Mikey takes a deep breath. “We're going to cause a fucking riot with this.”

“We always cause a riot.”

“There are not enough tickets on sale,” Mikey answers.

“Not our fault THEY don't give us a bigger location,” Frank shrugs, taking a drag from his smoke. Mikey knows that Frank is always for chaos and anarchy, he's breathing it, living it, it's the thing that keeps him warm at night. That and sometimes Gerard.

“People may get hurt,” Mikey says.

“You never cared about that before,” Frank gives back with a look.

Mikey wants to bite his lip and just let it be, but he can't. “I care now.”

“Mikey?” Gerard asks.

“I care now,” Mikey answers, firmly.

~+~  
“Okay, what's her name?” Gerard asks. He lights a cigarette for Mikey and then one for himself.

“It's not-”

“Don't bullshit me. I've been here before.”

Mikey rolls his eyes. “Let me fucking finish, why don't you?”

“Okay, I'm listening.”

“It's not a girl.”

“I've seen the hickey, Mikes.”

“Sometimes,” Mikey says, exhaling, “I really don't get why people buy your all-knowing cult leader shit.”

“Oh,” Gerard whispers.

“Yeah.”

“But, that girl with the pale hair?”

“His name is Andrej, he wears skirts and tastes like peach lip-gloss.”

Gerard inhales and nods. He's silent for a while, mulling this over. Mikey knows, because Mikey knows his brother. Gerard takes another drag and looks at Mikey “I don't think it matters. He won't get hurt.”

“Gerard,” Mikey says firmly. He doesn't want Gerard to stop doing what he's doing, but maybe this once, he does.

“I don't do that for the kicks,” Mikey snorts, “okay, not only for the kicks. I believe in the message. I believe that someone has to get it out there. The resistance needs a voice, needs to be heard and he never,” Gerard pauses, “he doesn't look like someone who'll go to see us play. ”

“Because he's different.”

“He must be,” Gerard says and nothing else. Gerard always knew him best. “Did you tell him?” he asks after a while.

“No.”  
Gerard nods.

 

~3~  
 _I just need to feel you breathe_

~+~  
Mikey knows this will all go to shit as soon as he sees the cop get hit. Gerard screams on like he doesn't give a fucking damn about what is going on in the pit. He probably doesn't, or, how unbelievable that might sound, he hasn’t even noticed yet. Gerard sometimes drowns in his own voice, in the music, the rhythm.  
Ray goes down first and then they're on Bob and Bob looks pissed off, like Mikey hasn't seen him in months. Frank is throwing a grin at him and finally Gerard starts to pay attention. He throws a grin right back at Frank.  
Fuckers! God, fuck, Mikey thinks.  
Gerard just screams louder, Frank plays on and Mikey does the same until he's dragged down and out. The police aren’t gentle at all. Gerard's face kisses the metal of the police-car hard. Mikey can see a cut bloom over his eye. He struggles, because what the fucking fuck? It's not like they're throwing bombs or whatever. They're just a band, just playing louder, harder, faster.  
Well, sometimes that's enough to be labelled enemy of the state.

~+~  
“Mikey,” Andrej says handing over a pack of cigarettes. His slender fingers and wrists are clean and pale between the metal bars.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mikey asks stepping away from his band and closer to Andrej. He's wearing pants, but he still looks like a girl in the right light.

“I called in a few favours,” he answers.  
Mikey shakes his head and takes the pack of smokes. Their fingers brush and Mikey curls his around Andrej's. He's very aware of his band's gaze on them. He doesn't care. Gerard knows. He steps even closer and so does Andrej. He lets their foreheads touch. Andrej exhales like he was waiting for something and finally got it.

“How long have you known?” Mikey asks.

“How long have you?” Andrej asks back.

“The day after,” Mikey answers.

Andrej nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. He grabs Mikey's neck and pulls him just that little bit closer. The bars bite into his skin, but it's worth feeling Andrej's breath on his lips.

~+~  
“So, you bang a guy who wears girl's clothes,” Frank states. He's smoking one of Mikey's cigarettes.

“Yeah.”

“Who just happened to be the major's son,” Ray continues.

“Yeah.”

“Who wants to see your brother dead,” Bob throws in.

“Yeah,” Mikey answers, exhaling smoke.

“Well, no one said revolution was easy business,” Gerard states.

“Or love,” Andrej says softly.

Gerard chokes on his cigarette and then smiles at Andrej. “Or love?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Mikey answers.

~end~


End file.
